


Rough Night

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bow - Freeform, Crime Fighting, Fights, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Swordplay, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver goes after his latest target, he runs into an unexpected complication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Night

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: [AvatarMN](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarMN)  
> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)  
> This story takes place before the end of season one.

Oliver Queen approached James Paul's house cautiously. He owned several slums in the Glades, occupied largely by illegal immigrants and others who didn't have the resources to complain about the horrible conditions of the buildings they lived in. Oliver had decided to pay Paul a visit to... convince him to either treat his tenants better, or sell his buildings to someone who would.

Oliver made his way through the topiary in Paul's back yard. He became aware of movement behind, and turned just in time to block a sword strike with the metal bracer on his right arm. Pulling out his bow, he blocked the second sword, as well. His opponent repeatedly struck out with both blades, and Oliver was forced back. He found himself on the defensive for a few moments as his attacker drove him towards a tall hedge. He wasn't helped by the darkness, as the lights from the house were blocked by the very topiaries he'd been using as cover. Oliver noted, however, that the person attacking him didn't seem to be wearing anything over his or her eyes, so unless they had some special implant, they were probably as affected by the darkness as he was.

Finally, though, Oliver found an opening, smacking his opponent upside the head. He fell over, dropping one of his swords. He quickly recovered, rolling over and getting up into a standing position. He held his remaining sword out in front of him. 

The man had rolled into the light, and what he saw made Oliver stop short. The man was wearing a distinctive black and orange mask, one that Oliver recognized from the island. And since Billy Wintergreen was dead...

"So, Paul hired a mercenary?" 

Oliver hoped that by getting his enemy to speak, he could confirm his suspicions. True, the man might also have a voice alteration device like he did, but Oliver decided he had nothing to lose by trying.

"Can you blame him?" the other man said. "You've got quite the reputation."

Oliver was glad for both his hood and the darkness, as they hid the shock on his face. His suspicions were right; the man he was facing was none other than Slade Wilson, who he'd met on the island. They'd be alone for some time, during which Slade had trained him to fight. They had been physical with each other in... other ways, as well.

And now Oliver was standing there in the middle of a fight with his old mentor and occasional lover. Part of him wanted to pull off his hood and reveal himself to Slade, and hope they could come to an arrangement. On the other hand, he realized that Slade might consider his job more important than their history, and as long as Slade was going to fight all-out, Oliver knew that the advantage he had over him right now could be important.

Slade took advantage of Oliver's hesitation, and Oliver was barely able to block one of his swords. He didn't have time to brace himself, however, and was thrown to the ground by the blow. He managed to lash out with his foot, kicking Slade in the shin hard enough to knock him down--right on top of Oliver.

Oliver was again glad for the darkness; he wasn't easily embarrassed, but having Slade land on top of him made his body react in unexpected ways. Oliver's hope that their clothes were thick enough to hide his erection was shattered when Slade let out a derisive laugh that Oliver was all too familiar with.

As embarrassing as it was, Oliver didn't waste the opportunity his unexpected erection gave him. He grabbed the man's hand, twisting it a way that forced him to drop his sword. He rolled them both over, away from the sword. As they came to a stop, Slade slammed a fist into Oliver's side. He loosened his grip on Slade enough that the other man was able to roll away from him. Both men moved into crouching positions, facing each other.

"This can't be your first fight," said Slade, not hiding the amusement in his voice. "You'd think you'd be over that by now." He nodded down towards Oliver's crotch to make his point.

"It's your accent," Oliver quipped back. "It's quite fetching."

Slade actually let out a laugh at this. Oliver again considered revealing himself to the man. The thought was cut short when Slade advanced on him. Oliver was alert this time, and moved out of the way. Then he shoved Slade between the shoulder blades, landing on top of him and putting him in a light choke hold.

"Look, I just want to talk to your client," Oliver said.

"Yeah, I've heard of your 'talks'," Slade managed to gasp out. "They usually end up involving putting arrows through people's throats."

Slade was struggling to get his knees under him to throw Oliver off. In the process, though, their bodies rubbed together in... interesting ways. At first Oliver thought he was the only one who felt it, but then Slade paused. Finally feeling at an advantage, Oliver pressed down against Slade, and was pleased at the noise he made. 

"Oh, you think you're clever, don't you?" said Slade. He'd finally managed to get one leg under him, using the leverage to flip them over. At the same time, he jammed his elbow between Oliver's ribs, making Oliver let go of him.

Much to Oliver's surprise, instead of going for one of his swords, Slade rolled on top of him and reached for Oliver's arms. Oliver managed to move his right arm quickly enough, but Slade was able to pin his left one against his chest, between their bodies. He shoved a knee between their legs, pressing it up against Oliver's groin. 

Putting his free hand on Slade's back, Oliver arched up against him--and found that he had an erection, too. "This night is just full of surprises," he muttered.

"This is all your fault, you know..." Slade whispered. "You should be the one to take care of it." 

Reaching between them, Slade undid the zipper on his own pants. Then he grabbed Oliver's right arm. Oliver knew where this was going, and while he didn't exactly object, there was one issue he wanted to resolve before this went any further. 

"Wait..."

"Relax, this'll just take a moment..." 

Oliver knew there was something that would get the man's attention. 

" _Slade_."

Slade stopped.

"You know me...?"

"We know each other," Oliver replied.

Pulling his arm out of Slade's grasp, Oliver reached up and pulled his hood off. Slade leaned down, squinting in the dark. Then suddenly he leaned back, sitting up.

"Oh my God..." He shook his head. "I should have known..."

Taking advantage of Slade's surprise, Oliver flipped him on his back. Then he reached down, roughly grabbing Slade's crotch.

"Hey!"

"You said you wanted me to take care of it..."

"I didn't mean yank the damn thing off!" Slade moaned.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," said Oliver easing up just a bit. "I learned from the best, after all..."

"Damn right you did."

Slade reached down, but Oliver pulled his hands away.

"At least pull me out," Slade chided. "I don't want to have wet trousers the rest of the night..."

"Fine," said Oliver. 

Undoing the button on Slade's pants, he pulled the front down a bit and tugged Slade's cock out. Then he turned him on his side, so his jizz would spill on the ground. He worked Slade's cock vigorously. Slade squirmed, occasionally letting out a groan. He didn't argue again, though, letting Oliver roughly bring him to climax.

As he was jerking Slade off, their positions gave Oliver an idea. When he'd finished, Oliver slid Slade's pants down to his thighs. Slade pulled away, no doubt knowing what Oliver had in mind.

"Hey!"

"What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it...?"

"Really...? You think making it sound like a _challenge_ will persuade me?"

"No. But this might..."

Having wrestled the glove off his right hand, Oliver shoved his middle finger into Slade's ass.

"Uh! You... little bastard..."

Oliver worked another finger in. "Is that a yes?"

"Uhh... yeah..."

Oliver pulled his fingers out of Slade's ass. Then he undid his pants, pulling himself out. Pressing against Slade's back, he pushed roughly into him, going deep on the first thrust.

"Shit," Slade muttered, pulling away.

Oliver gripped Slade's hip. "This'll go a lot faster if stop fighting." There was a pause. "Wow, that sounds way worse-"

"Just shut up and do it."

Nodding--then realizing it didn't matter, since Slade couldn't see him--Oliver began pumping into Slade, deep and more than a little rough.

Slade growled, clearly biting back a cry at the pain of being fucked dry. True, it was rather cruel of Oliver to do it that way, but it was rough on him, too. Besides, it's not as if Slade hadn't done it to him on occasion.

Oliver let out a deep groan as he emptied himself into Slade. 

Oliver slid away from Slade, and re-did his pants. Rolling onto his back, and turning to keep an eye on Oliver, Slade did the same.

"I'm still working for Paul, ya know," pointed out calmly.

A thought occurred to Oliver. "How much is he paying you?"

Slade laughed. Then, he stopped, getting to his feet.

"Seriously?"

Oliver jumped up, looking Slade in the eye. Well, mask. 

"I could try telling you what a corrupt piece of slime he is, but you probably don't care."

"Not really..."

"So you're motivated by money."

"You realize I could just pull a number out of my arse, right?"

Oliver smirked. "Funny, I didn't find any numbers up there...

"Of course you could," Oliver continued. That had occurred to him as soon as the idea had.

"But, what, you trust me?"

Oliver laughed. "Not at all. I just know I can afford to pay more."

It was Slade's turn to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Damn... I'm almost tempted to let you off the hook just for those brass balls you're carrying."

"But you're not going to..."

"Hell, no, I got a kid at home!"

They both laughed at this.

"Five million, and I'm out of your way."

"If I make it seven, will you help me take Paul down?"

"No," said Slade, with no hesitation. "Walking away from your client and turning against him are different things."

Oliver nodded. "Fair enough. I'll still give you seven mil."

Slade gave an exaggerated shrug. "If you insist."

"Okay." Oliver thought for a moment. "On one condition..."

"Oh?"

Oliver smiled. "How soon can you be ready to go again?"


End file.
